LSD:

Its a world of new cinema. Kaminey, Ishqiya, Love Sex Aur Dhokha and the real India. Love and sex is an integral part of this India. A bolder India. With Big Boss, Indians discovered mass voyeurism. We tuned in every day to watch this game of a bunch of nobodies fight it out, sling mud at each other and have some entertainment that one would generally not do publicly. LSD uses this to pluck out three stories from what could be anyplace in India and gives us a mix of experential and new world cinema.

Except the strange opening, the film works beautifully. Adjusting to the wierd camera angles isnt too much trouble thanks to likes of Bigg Boss and Emotional Atyachaar. The narrative is tight for the three segments and the completely unknown cast adds to the believability. The dialogues are something that one hasn’t heard too often on film. Its the lingo of the aam aadmi. Among the three stories, the one that remains in the mind is the second. Its something that is completely refreshing and relatable. The first one is predictable a la Manohar Kahaniyaan.

Its a good experiment. It remains to be seen how people react to this experiment. For one, the two college girls sitting next to us couldnt figure out for about 25 minutes into the movie why the camera was shaking so much. There you go!

Man’s best friend…

My daughter has a new superhero. Or super heroine. Every night I tell Myra stories of this super heroine and she is all ears, picking every word, wide eyed, watching the pictures unfold as I tell her one of the many adventures of Zeboo. Yes, Zeboo, my pet dog, my friend, my sister.

Years ago, eighteen years to be precise, I fell in love with the world’s most adorable puppy. It was love at first sight for me. As I was walking up to my friend Prashant’s room, there by the stairway, Lucy, his cute Spitz, and Ricky, his giant Alsatian, sat with their litter. Lucy was fiercely protective of her pups. Seven of them, all white and brown, and Zeboo slept her time away. The next day I returned to see her, sleeping again, curled up by her mom. As much I hated taking her away from her Lucy, I was thrilled that Zeboo was going to be with us.

Zeboo was immediately accepted in the family, she didn’t have to try hard, the moment she looked at you with those puppy eyes, you would fall. Then began her many adventures, growing up in a over-protective family. It helped her that we lived on the ground floor, and has the whole courtyard and mom’s garden to play in. For a untrained canine, she was immaculately well behaved. She never messed up the house; she would always use the bathroom, always ate in her bowl, slept in her rug and knew all the communication skills well.

She knew the good guys from the bad, and always reserved her fiercest barks for the real nasty guys. And she knew friends. She could be as playful as she could be shut off. And then she did all the cute stuff like chasing sparrows and crows, running after the cricket ball and growling if anybody wanted it from us. She even played cricket with us three brothers. She’d ride on us on the bike, she would pressurise my dad for the walk every night, even if it was raining. Yes, she could be pushy. And she could be a vegetarian for days at end, devouring tomatoes, cucumbers and bananas. She’d stay up late in the night till she was convinced that there was nobody coming to harm us and then snuggle up close with one of us in our beds.  

Of the many stories that I tell Myra about Zeboo, the one she has decided to call “Zeboo and the dirty boy”, the one where she fought a boy bravely who had broken our window pane with a cricket ball and snatched it away from him. The other one is “Zeboo and the crow” where, Zeboo chases the crow that is damaging mom’s garden. And when I tell her “Zeboo and the doctor”, Myra is pained because the doctor gives her a big injection. She looks forward to a story every night, and it is not difficult for me to narrate one to her, because Zeboo has had so many wonderful tales.

Zeboo left us six years back, before my daughter was born. And every time I saw Zeboo’s photograph, or watch a canine movie, I can’t help having tears in my eyes thinking that she is no more with us.

But she is there; she’s still with us. She belongs here. And she lives on. In the stories I tell Myra, and in Myra’s heart.

Love Love Love

With the redevelopment of older buildings in my neighbourhood is gathering speed and with lesser people now populating the area, I am noticing a new development also happening. In a space starved Mumbai, couples find all sorts of places to koo-chickoo!!! One such place happens to be a corner of my building, which after nightfall provides a safe haven for love birds to flock.

 

With no watchmen to shoo them away, our cars and bikes provide seclusion and shield them from the prying eyes of the world. The solitary tube light entrusted with the task of spreading light to the environs of this particular corner somehow now supports these couples, refusing to come out of its slumber, thus providing the cover of darkness as encouragement. Everyday, when I get back from work, I see some couple or the other utilising the facilities which we have benevolently provided. Some are also playing soulful numbers by Himesssss, or Atif Aslam to create the mood. Kehte hain, paani aur sacche pyaar ko koi rok nahin sakta.  

 

I am reminded of my childhood days when we used to visit the lush green environs of Empress Garden. Empress Garden – Pune – is a botanical park with a huge cover of greenery sprawling over a huge area. There also happens to be a small stream flowing through it adding to the charms. We used to go there on Sundays to generally have a good time lazing around playing cricket and badminton or just running around through the stream. This place is also full of huge trees, as also bamboo groves. Every tree had at least two lovelorn couples “engaged” in affection. Bamboo grooves were even better. These were a perfect camouflage for snakes and couples alike, all of whom used to have intertwined bodies. We innocent minds never understood why people had to hide and talk to each other. Since we were fed on a diet of hindi movies, we thought that love was all about singing songs in the garden around trees. So we used to wait for these people to start singing. But alas!

 

Anywhichways, we soon understood why these guys did so. When we started going to college, we were exposed to many such couples canoodling around. And that too in college since our college – Fergusson – was blessed with plenty of isolated spots which did not remain all that isolated with the ever growing love industry.

 

And the more adventurous ones and of course the innovative ones used to pick up places such as the Lovers’ Lane. This was a lane that connects Law college road to somewhere inside and runs parallel to Prabhat road (for the guys from Pune, if u wanna ever use this!). And yes, there was this amazing technique. You hire a rick. And you pay that guy some money to park the rick very close to the dense growth of trees in someone’s bungalow. And use the rain curtain on the other side. And yippee, you had a private room to yourselves.

 

In Mumbai, though since trees and gardens a rarity, in addition to the spots like my building couples stick to Bandstand, Worli seaface, Nariman Point, Marine Drive and some other places where there is a potent combination of the sea and rocks! It’s very easy to sea that they have a rocking time!!!

Love

Say its only a paper moon
Sailing over a cardboard sea

But it wouldnt be make believe
If you believe in me!